


#1 crush

by elektra



Category: Bleach
Genre: Nonbinary Ulquiorra, Other, Poorly Planned Out Seduction, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 18:35:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11697486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elektra/pseuds/elektra
Summary: “Listen,” Szayel lifts his hands in a way he hopes is soothing and will reduce his chances of being mauled in a hallway. “If I’ve piqued your interest, I’ll leave my tower open today, hm?”





	#1 crush

Szayel nearly fell asleep during his second meeting with the Espada.

He’d been working for months without end, still burning off his twilight hours and the intoxicating charm of being alive (in some capacity, anyhow), so when he finally sunk into a cushioned chair, he felt his eyes begin to sting and his limbs go loose.

The bit of chatter beforehand kept him sharp, taking advantage of having all the Espada in one place to analyze each one. The ranks were sparse, thanks to several particularly deadly distinctions that could simply never remain filled, and Aizen’s insistence on gathering more Vasto Lorde for the rest.

Szayel took care not to let his gaze wander much further up the table than the Cuarta. Grandfather Time and Starrk were irrelevant, old news to him. The spot in between, that-should-not-be-named, was old news, but in different terms.

His posture slowly deflated throughout the meeting, until his elbows drifted onto the table, his fingers playing patterns into the marble. The fiftieth time Aizen smacked around his tea cup and continued droning, Szayel wondered how inappropriate it would be should he rest his head on his arms.

Not even to sleep!

Though it sounded nice.

Very nice.

But then Aizen took a fifty-second sip of his tea, placed the cup down with finality, and slid his chair back. Oh, mercy. Someone really was looking out for Szayel in this cruel, dangerous, brave new world. Slowly, the Espada begin to trickle out of the room. Some leap, some creak, some erupt into continued arguments that morph into battle noises down the hall.

At the corner, Szayel sees the Cuarta walking beside him, their hands tucked into their pockets. It’s been a few weeks since they inspected his laboratory on Aizen’s behalf — it’s more interaction he’s had than with any of the others.

“How lovely to see you,” he purrs down at them. They spare him a glance. “Oh, come now, I’m only trying to be friendly. I thought we were on good terms!”

Szayel stops, linking his fingers behind his back. Cifer seems to pick up on this social cue, and turns to face him a few steps away.

A frosty silence. He’ll have to do all the work, then. Fine.

“Perhaps you could enlighten me on what we’re supposed to do for fun around here besides knock some towers down with our swords. You look like you… know the definition of fun.”

Nothing?

He twists his lips, closes the space to them in a long stride. “I see your point. We’re not suited to sit down and play a civil round of a board game. What about something a bit more licentious?”

Cifer looks off to the side, as if something, anything, there will be more interesting than this conversation.

“No,” they say.

It speaks! At what cost?

Szayel scowls. “Don’t tell me I’ve joined a cloister of undead monks.”

“The thought never occurred.”

“Hm. But you’ve never even tried? What about — Cirucci? She has a relatively fully-human looking body, though with that mouth on her she’d be too busy taunting you about how bad of a job you’re doing flipping her skirt up rather than doing any good with it. Unless otherwise is not necessarily a hard pass for you… Nnoitra?”

When Szayel looks back down to Ulquiorra, they’re just meeting his gaze. But not glaring. Which is good. He supposes.

“Not Nnoitra,” he smiles. Understandable. Very, very understandable. Tempting, though, should one be so morbidly curious. “What about me?”

Cut him a break. It’s been a while. He doesn’t even know how… if this body _works_ like that anymore. He’d throw himself off the highest tower if it didn’t, so he may as well find out sooner than later.

Cifer isn’t exactly hideous, either. Strange, melancholic, and looking like they’re trying to chew down an entire manuscript of the Old Testament (with footnotes), but pretty in their own way. Prettier if he could just push a bit of their hair out of their face without getting his fingers sliced off.

He catches a little twitch in their eyebrow, and fixes them with his best smile.

“Listen,” Szayel lifts his hands in a way he hopes is soothing and will reduce his chances of being mauled in a hallway. “If I’ve piqued your interest, I’ll leave my tower open today, hm?”

The implication: please come by.

A few hours later, Szayel finds out that Cifer’s head isn’t so full of cobwebs as to completely miss his invitation.

A reiatsu sensor bleeps off to the side when they enter the first level, automatically brings up a surveillance feed on a spare monitor. He stows away a mixture labelled VERONA and snaps his gloves off just in time for Cifer to meander in.

There’s an awkward moment in which the both of them are merely standing there. At least, Szayel finds it awkward. They’re watching him beneath the heavy weight of their eyelashes, and he feels unsettled.

Are they going to look at him like that the whole time? This was a mistake. But he can’t admit that.

“No one put me up to this,” Szayel blurts out. “I’m only curious. Apparently, so are you.”

Cifer doesn’t move, so he reaches out to place his hand on their hip. His palm engulfs almost the entirety of their side, ribs to hip. They feel like bird bones beneath him, even like this. They don’t stop him, so he leans down to kiss them. Soft, but unyielding, until he tries again, and he feels their small hand come up to rest on his forearm.

Szayel pulls away, takes stock of their smudged black lips and half closed eyes. “Hm?” He offers a smile.

Another kiss might not hurt too much.


End file.
